I was orphaned a long time ago. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife.
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